DEATH SHALL HAVE NO DOMINION ~ An SND Story

By Cindy Miller

March 18, 1992



Chapter One - Lost Lovers

Introduction

 Cathy’s long months of waiting after her capture and abuse were nearly over.  What had started out as an investigation of the car bombing of Joe Maxwell’s former college associate, which had also injured Joe, had ended in her abduction.  Their former boss, the traitorous John Moreno of the D.A.’s office, had just been a lackey to the power behind both the bombing and her capture.  She had been drugged and tortured at first for information she had regarding the investigation, but that had suddenly been discontinued when her tormentors discovered she was pregnant.  Cathy could only assume that her captors wanted her and Vincent’s unborn child, and let her live.  Why?  She had asked herself that question a thousand times, and still could find no answer.  The two events were totally unrelated.  They couldn’t know about Vincent, could they?

 Vincent!  He had almost succeeded in rescuing her once, when she called out on the basement pipes where she had previously been held and questioned.  Since then, all attempts at escape or communication with the outside world had failed.  She was now captive high above the city in a single, hotel-like room with nothing but her thoughts to entertain herself.  Her heart-to-heart bond with Vincent was broken.  Catherine was completely alone in this life-threatening peril.  She tried to be strong, as Vincent had taught her to be.  She kept hoping, trusting, that after Vincent’s near-death illness had passed, their bond would be restored with his health.  That hadn’t happened or he would have come to her-no matter where she was or how long it had been.  Now, at the last, she wondered if it wasn’t the pregnancy, their child that interfered with their spiritual connection.

 Soon it would be over.  Each contraction of her labor grew stronger and she knew her captors would soon come and take her child and her life from her.  Nothing seemed of more importance than that they should not have her and Vincent’s baby-a baby that he did not even know existed!  That thought added to her grief and fear.

 She had gone down into the bowels of the underground world to save Vincent from a killing fever and rage unique to his personal being, to try to turn him back from that inner darkness.  When Vincent collapsed at her feet in a deathly faint, she had called him back to life with all her love and being.  She would have done anything to bring him back to her, paid any price.  She didn’t consider the gift of herself, her love, to be a sacrifice; nor did she dream Vincent’s love would give her the gift of life within her.  Now the beauty of their love and dreams, their joining, would come to an evil end.  NO!  She would not let that happen!  She must fight for life, for Vincent, for their love-and for their child!

 Oh!  She must not push; she must hold back as long as possible-hold out for a miracle!  She held onto that hope even as they strapped her onto the delivery table.

 What were they saying?  ‘Time was short?  Cut her baby out?’  “No! No!” she shouted and pushed with all her ebbing strength.  It was over…their child was born!  She collapsed with exhaustion.  The physical relief was immediate, but dread was taking over.  Her enemy was there to claim her child.

 “Please, let me see my baby!” she pleaded.

 He granted her a brief glance at her healthy, normal-looking son before carrying him away.  Then, his parting words to the doctor froze her blood.

 “Finish it”

 Nervously, the doctor filled a deadly hypo.  “You’ll feel nothing, I promise,” he said flatly and quickly injected her, stripping off his surgery greens as he left.

 For one horror frozen moment Catherine almost succumbed to her terror; almost forgot to fight for life and love.  She would die here alone and never be found! ‘NO!’ she screamed in her mind.  Someone must know; she must find Vincent!  Through a haze of exhaustion and drugs, she struggled to release her hands from the restraining straps, her feet from the table stirrups, and rolled onto the floor.  It would be so easy to lie still and drift away into oblivion.

 Just then, a terrible roar reverberated through the empty corridors, along with the slap of chopper blades whirling somewhere overhead.  VINCENT!  That sound, which could freeze a man’s blood in terror, sent her blood racing with joy; galvanizing her to action.  She scrambled in slow motion onto her feet and out the door…”CATHERINE!!!” he screamed her name.  There was desperation and frustration in that cry.  Dragging herself slowly up the stairwell and onto the roof, she saw him near the roof’s edge, with his back toward her.

 “Vincent!” she cried in relief.  He did come!  She knew he would not fail her.  She was safe now.

 He whirled in disbelief, and leaped to catch her in his arms as she collapsed against him.

 “Catherine!” he choked out in unbounded joy and relief, absorbing every detail of her beloved face so long parted from him.  He was oblivious to the fact that she was wringing wet with perspiration and exhaustion and garbed in hospital gown.  He only knew he had found her again.

 “Vincent, we loved,…” she gasped.  She fought to keep her faculties, but seemed to be sinking fast into the darkness rising within her.  “…there is a child.”

 His feline features were a study of concern and incredulity.  “A child?”

 “Vincent…he’s beautiful!”  His features were blurring -she concentrated-raising her hand to caress his beloved face once more.  What was the message she must give him?  “Though lovers be lost… love… shall not…”  She had to let him know!

 “And death shall have no dominion,” he finished for her, suspicion and panic rising in his heart.

 She gave a small nod.  He had got the message, she thought and smiled.  She could hold on no longer, and lost consciousness.

 “Catherine…NO!!” he cried aloud.  “Don’t leave me now!”  In him mingled confusion and agony, he covered her mouth in a desperate kiss.   “Come back to me, Catherine, please!” he wept quietly.  Surely they had not loved for almost three years  --gone through so much-been cruelly separated these last agonizing six months, only to find and lose her like this, to the ugliness and evil Above! ‘No, not like this, please, God,’ his eyes scanned the starry heavens as his heart sent up a silent prayer.  He looked down on her beautiful face, now at peace…without him.  She lay limply in his arms.  He felt for her pulse, hoping to find help for even now, but she was gone.

 What should he do?  Where should he go?  He couldn’t think, but sat quietly rocking her in his arms.  He couldn’t-wouldn’t-leave her there.  Finally, gently lifting her high against his chest, he decided to take her home.

 Her balcony had been their meeting place between her world and his.  After the slow, careful journey and long climb eighteen stories up, he paused there one last time.  How many evenings they had shared here, looking out over the city, across the dark expanse of Central Park.  Turning, he forced open the balcony door, entered the bedroom and laid her tenderly on her bed.  He spent the remainder of the night kneeling by her side holding her hand.  This was their last time together, he thought painfully, gazing upon her; memorizing every detail of her features as if her image wasn’t already indelibly etched in his heart and mind since the night he had first found her.  Then, with a sudden realization of the coming dawn, he leaned closer and kissed her goodbye…forever.

 Numb with shock and grief, he barely made it to the safety Below before the sun rose and the busy city awoke.  Vincent had Catherine’s death reported to the police by an anonymous phone call from the nearest Helper’s basement.  She would be taken care of properly, that was the most important thing; it was all that he could do for her now.  And perhaps the authorities would uncover the mystery of her disappearance and death, so that at least justice would be served, although her loss could never be requited.

 ‘Catherine.’  He wandered the passages Below for hours.  He had to keep moving -to stop the turmoil of his thoughts, prevent the pain from overwhelming him-knowing he would never see or hold her again.  ‘Who had done this to her? To him?  Why?  His life, his love, his heart had been torn from him.  How was it, then, that he was still alive?  Better for him to die, than her.’  Finally, dropping from exhaustion and grief, he found himself in Father’s chamber, seeking the only known solace left to him, and wept in Father’s arms.

Hour followed hour.  Day followed day.  Father, and many who had known Catherine and been touched by her life and love, attended her funeral.  Vincent, overwhelmed by her loss, visited her grave late every night.  He was worse than devastated; his whole being was crippled.  His sense of loss loomed ever larger, threatening to consume him.  He found neither rest, nor ease from his pain.  The healing process took time friends said, but he knew this wound would never heal.

His restlessness took him far beneath the city, as well as to the far reaches of the tunnels.  His memories with Catherine caused him to relive every moment, revisit every shared spot: the painted tunnels; the tiny chamber below the concert stage in the park where they had enjoyed many evening performances, silent now at this time of the year; the Great Hall where he took her to her first Winterfest---they had waltzed together; the maze, where she had helped rescue Father and him from a perilous cave-in.  In every inch of the tunnels, every chamber, he could feel her presence or see her face!

One day he visited the underground chamber where she had called him back from death’s door.  ‘Why hadn’t he been able to save HER?  What evil forces kept them apart so cruelly and left him unable to find or help her until too late?’  All he had left to him was unanswerable questions, which were driving him mad, and an unbearable pain throbbed where his heart used to be… and it was killing him.  He was dying without her.

“WHY?” he roared with all his might, but the sound only echoed and re-echoed down the endless tunnels of stone and mind.  He lost himself then to his anguish, his inner dark rage-a worse battle than he had ever fought in any mere physical illness-throwing himself about the chamber and tearing at, and about himself.  Then, in the throes of his insanity, his hand suddenly chanced to find Catherine’s crystal necklace in the sandy floor of the chamber.  As he held it up to the light, its’ cool touch and shining reflected light brought her memory and his sanity back to him.  He had given it to her to mark their first year together.  It must have slipped off her neck as they clung together that night!  Suddenly, he could hear her calling to him!!

“Vincent!  Where are you?’  Her melodious voice called gently, soothingly.

He leaped to his feet.  “Catherine?”

“There is a child…our beautiful son.  Find him,” her sweet voice came to him.

He shook himself.  “A child?”

Her child---their child, she said-conceived in this place?  It must be!!  That was the connection that had drawn him to this spot!  She had given him a son, a part of her he could hold on to!  He must find him!  The bond that had led him to that rooftop hadn’t been Catherine, but his newborn son!  She must have known, had tried to tell him once before she was lost to him.

The events of that night flashed vividly through his mind.    THAT MAN had taken their son!!  HE had killed Catherine!  The face he had seen in the helicopter, taking off from that roof, seared his memory.  Resolution took root in his mind and heart.  Here was his reason for life!  He must find his son and bring him home.  Fierce determination burned through him now as he sought Father to give him this news.  No risk would be too great to take to get their son back from this living evil.

 Once again, Catherine’s love had saved him from himself, and had given him purpose and inspiration again.

 “I’ll find our son, Catherine,” he vowed.